


(you're my) someone to love and to hold

by Vilchen



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Christmas vacay, Cuddles, Domestic Fluff, Don't copy to another site, Dorks in Love, M/M, Social Media, this is basically 4k of Christmas themed fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:09:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22037575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vilchen/pseuds/Vilchen
Summary: «Now get the hell outta here!» Yuri says and shoves them out the doors of the Ice Palace as if they’re two sacks of potatoes and not his co-coaches. Yuuri’s sneakers slip on the icy surface, almost bringing him face first into the staircase—Victor’s hand is already around his arm to keep him steady, his own sneakers somehow rooted to the ground.«Your flight leaves in two hours! Look at this!» Yuri says and dangles this year’s GPF gold medal in front of their noses. «I won; you’ve done your jobs! Now leave on your stupid vacation before I strangle you both!»My gift to pinkyvasquez for the Yoi Secret Skater Gift Exchange, with art by the amazingmandolinearts!!
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 8
Kudos: 55
Collections: Chaos Collection 2019, Yuri!!! on Ice Secret Skater 2019





	(you're my) someone to love and to hold

**Author's Note:**

> Title from 'We all need someone' by The Strumbellas
> 
> Thank you so much Kathe for betaing (coughsavingmyasscough) and letting me write a scene to match your beautiful art! Undoubtedly my favourite part of this whole experience! *stabs u with love* 
> 
> Link to her blog in the end notes as well!

_December 20th_

«Now get the hell outta here!» Yuri says and shoves them out the doors of the Ice Palace as if they’re two sacks of potatoes and not his co-coaches. Yuuri’s sneakers slip on the icy surface, almost bringing him face first into the staircase—Victor’s hand is already around his arm to keep him steady, his own sneakers somehow rooted to the ground.

«Your flight leaves in two hours! Look at this!» Yuri says and dangles this year’s GPF gold medal in front of their noses. « _I won;_ you’ve done your jobs! Now leave on your stupid vacation before I strangle you both!»

Yuri slams the door shut and turns on his heel, spine straight and chin lifted. Lilia might’ve succeeded in straightening his posture, but even as he balances on the cusp of adulthood Yuri still wields his annoyance like a big neon sign taped to his back.

And so they stand on the curbs with their suitcases, Yuuri’s cold sniffles growing louder by the minute. They glance at each other, then back at the rink they’re apparently no longer welcome at.

«I guess I’ll hail us a cab, then,» Victor says.

* * *

An hour long flight and two hours by train later they finally arrive at the Finnish cabin they’ve rented for the occasion. Everything is wooden and charmingly quaint. A kitchen island with bowls of fruit, fresh bread rolls and two mugs already set out for them; a big, open fireplace with a fully stocked basket of firewood; a couch with sheepskins and woolen blankets, looking inviting and impossibly soft to the touch. Yuuri could sink into that couch and die, no problem.

«Why don’t you get the fire going while I make us some tea?» Victor says with a squeeze to his shoulder.

The fireplace is already set up with firewood, so all it takes is a couple of well-placed crumpled newspaper balls and three matches before the flames grow big and steady. Yuuri gives himself a moment to relax and stare into the flickering flames, sinking his fingers into the soft sheepskin beneath him and carding through the tangles like he would with Makkachin’s fur.

«They didn’t have any Genmaicha, but this herbal brew smells pretty good,» Victor says and joins him on the floor.

«It’s good,» Yuuri says after a small sip. He cradles the cup between both hands and curls up against Victor’s side. Victor’s arm moves around his shoulders, and with his cheek pressed into Victor’s chest like this, each steady heartbeat seems to mirror his own.

* * *

_December 21st_

The outside landscape is like an artwork painted with wide strokes of white and pale blue, each ray of sunlight reflecting off the white plains with a kaleidoscope effect of ever-shifting glints. Victor’s boots sink knee-deep into the snow with every step he forces through, and a clear trail can be seen from the porch of the cabin to where he’s shoved his way.

A snowball explodes against the back of Victor’s head, shattering into lumps sinking home underneath the collar of his winter coat. He twists to look back, tightlipped smile freezing at the edges as ice-cold water trickles down his back. Yuuri peeks out from around the corner of the cabin, beanie pulled firmly down over his ears and a mitten clad hand trying to cover up his laughter.

«I see how it is,» Victor says. «Be careful now, _darling.»_

He forms a ball in his hand; perfectly round, smooth patted snow, compact and heavy in his hand. Only the best to throughly demolish his dearie husband. Victor smooths out the indents, looks up—

—and gets another snowball in the face.

«That’s it!»

Yuuri squeals as Victor suddenly lounges for him, sparking a chase. Their movements are clunky and slow in their warm winter gear, but Victor gains on Yuuri with his longer strides and throws himself at him head first; his arms come around his middle and lock themselves in place, even as the world tilts dangerously to the right and they both topple over the edge of the hill.

They tumble down in a mess of limbs, scarves and laughing squeals. Snow is everywhere; in his hair, his face, up his jacket sleeves and underneath his collar and it’s impossible to figure out which way up is before it’s down. When they finally slow down enough for them to skid their fall, they’ve nearly reached the bottom of the hill and the cabin is but a small dot three hundred feet away.

Victor crawls on all four over to where Yuuri’s laying sprawled on the ground. He leans over him and shoves a handful of snow in Yuuri’s face before he collapses on top of him like a bag of potatoes. Yuuri groans and shoves weakly at him to get the weight off, but Victor persists.

«Look what you did,» Victor says and rests his head on Yuuri’s chest, facing his neck. He breaths warm air on a clump of snow stuck in Yuuri’s collar and watches smugly as it melts further and a drop disappears underneath his sweater.

Serves him right.

* * *

Yuuri looks up at the cabin with a frown. The hill isn’t too steep, so it shouldn’t be much of a problem to get up again but... _it’s so far._ And there are lots of other things to do down here anyways. He swats away another halfhearted snowball from Victor, who has now sunken a good ten inches into the snow and doesn’t look very inclined to move.

«Do you wanna build a snowman?»

* * *

[Image description: Yuuri crouched with his back to the camera in front of two dog shaped snowmen, trying to meld a floppy ear. One is twice as big as the other, and they're both sporting big doggy grins and crooked muzzles.]

Liked by **christophe-gc, phichit+chu, katsuki-mari, minako-okukawa** and **13,849 others**

**v-nikiforov** Our first official day on vacation and we're already missing our darling Makkachin. @ **yuri-plisetsky** give her lots of kisses from me!

#tributetothedoggos #christmasvacay #marriedtoyuurikatsuki #finland

_View all 149 comments_

**yuri-plisetsky** She’s chewing on my shoes. Last time I dog sit for you guys :<

**phichit+chu** Thank you **v-nikiforov** for giving us the Katsuki Yuuri content we all deserve. His fans are starving and complaining to my fans about it. I’m watching you, **y-katsuki**

**Podium_husbands** Enjoy your vacation, you’ve definitely deserved it!!

_6 HOURS AGO_

* * *

_December 22nd_ ****

Something warm and bright brings Victor up from the deep depths of sleep. His first weak attempt at opening his eyes fails as soon as the sharp rays of sunlight register, but the heavy weight of his husband's head resting on his chest keeps him from moving.

«Yuuri…» he groans softly and buries his face in Yuuri's hair to escape the morning sun. He knew he should’ve fixed those damn curtains.

It’s comfortably warm beneath the covers, just the right temperature to doze off to for a couple more minutes. Victor ignores the quiet urge of habit to get up and lets the smell of Yuuri's shampoo and the sound of his deep, even breaths lull him back to sleep.

* * *

The next time Victor blinks his eyes open there’s no Yuuri by his side. His spot on the mattress has almost gone cold and the drowsy state of Victor's mind is teetering on the edge of sluggishness.

He finds Yuuri in the kitchen fussing over a sizzling pan of what smells like bacon. On the counter next to him are two steaming plates of fried eggs and the dining table is laid out with toast, juice, jam and a thermos of hot water.

Victor sidles up behind him and winds his arms around Yuuri’s midsection, leaning in close to nuzzle into that soft patch of skin beneath his chin. Yuuri tilts their heads together and hums, using his free hand to comb through the long tresses of his fringe.

«Good morning, love,» Yuuri murmurs sweetly into his ear. Victor melts and gives his waist a comforting squeeze.

«Morning, sunshine.»

Yuuri pokes his side teasingly, «Honey.»

"My darling," Victor retorts, hiding his growing smile in Yuuri's shirt.

«Sweetheart."

«Angel.»

«Snugglekins.»

«Sweet cakes.»

« _Bae._ »

Victor snorts and buries his face in Yuuri's shoulder. «Oh, no. How in the world will I ever come up with something better than _bae?_ »

«I’d admit defeat already if I were you.»

Yuuri finishes their plates and carries them to the table, Victor trailing idly behind with one hand fisted in Yuuri's shirt, just because. Skiing was the original plan, but they agree that yesterday was enough for them both and to spend the day inside instead.

Victor does the dishes while Yuuri gets the fire going and digs out some board games and blankets to snuggle into. He puts on a Christmas playlist, something low and romantic, and prepares two cups of hot chocolate. While the milk warms, he leans on the counter and watches Victor scrub the plates, humming along to the music.

«I got a call from Yura this morning. Makka was a bit sluggish when he picked her up, slept the most of the evening away, but she’s back to normal now.»

«Mmm, that’s good,» Victor says. The line of his jaw is tense. «She used to get a little depressed when I travelled away for competitions, but at least she’s with someone she knows now and not at a kennel this time.»

Victor rinses the last plate, puts it on the drying rack and leans back with his hands on the counter. His fringe hangs in front of his face, obscuring his expression but not the shaky smile on his face.

«It’s one of the reasons I wanted to take a break the first year I coached you, you know. To spend more time with her. She.. she’s not a puppy anymore.»

It hasn’t escaped Yuuri's attention that Makkachin is starting to act more like the senior citizen she is. Their walks have grown shorter and her naps longer; she spends more of her time draped across Victor’s lap on the couch when Yuuri cooks than begging for scraps by his feet.

«I know,» Yuuri says and takes Victor’s hands between his own. «But don’t worry too much, she’s a puppy at heart. Just ask Yura; she still knocks him over whenever he stops by.»

The sad twinge to Victor’s lips twists, and his fingers finally intertwine properly with Yuuri’s.

«We can FaceTime with her later if you want. But come, now; I found Jenga,» he says and tugs at their hands.

Victor follows him willingly to the couch and catches the cardboard box Yuuri plops in his lap. The box rattles with the wooden bricks inside as Victor curiously lifts the lid off and picks one up for inspection.

«I’ve never actually played Jenga before,» he admits, somewhat reluctantly.

«Oh?» Yuuri blinks. «Back in Detroit we used to play it all the time before practice while we waited for the hockey players to get off the ice.»

Victor hums, but can’t really relate. He was an only child with busy parents and an even busier schedule for himself—victory in board games never tasted quite the same after his first worlds champion title.

He holds up three pieces between his fingers. «Teach me?»

* * *

[Image description: A shot of Victor, brows crunched together as he tries to take out a single wooden block from the already scarce tower. His lips are pursed in concentration. The camera is angled in a way that looks as if the photo is sneakily taken.]

Liked by **phichit+chu, ice_castle_madonna, katsuki-mari, kenjirou_minami** and **6,264 others** ****

**y-katsuki** he thinks he’s winning

#christmasvacay #harderthanitlooks

_View all 82 comments_

**christophe-gc** playing dirty, are we? ;)

**phichit+chu** get rekt nikiforov, he’s been training for this day his entire life (·`ω´·)

**skates-on-fire** omg guys it’s happening!!! our bi-monthly instagram update *cries*

**kenjirou_minami** brb, gotta go buy jenga and start my training!!

_3 HOURS AGO_

* * *

_December 23rd_

The smell of incense, roasted chestnuts and mulled wine wafts through the air, drawing children, couples and families closer to booths selling drinks, snacks, trinkets and crafts. Lights on strings stretch across the square over their heads and illuminates everything in a soft, mellow glow; a stark contrast to the backdrop of the dark night sky.

The air is cold and brittle against Victor’s cheeks the way it can only being during winter. The tip of his nose has long since gone numb and red, but at least his pockets are deep and warm enough to spare his fingers from the same fate. He puffs out a breath of air to warm the tip of his nose like he did as a child, but the steam shrivels and dies as soon as it is set free, never reaching further than the soft skin above his upper lip.

A soft chuckle from his left, muffled and low, captures his attention. Yuuri smiles, visible only by the soft wrinkles in the corner of his eyes and the crinkle of his nose. A red, woolen scarf is wrapped snugly around the lower half of his face. He too is illuminated by the soft lights hanging overhead; they spread a golden glow over his skin and mellows the edges of his face, framed by his dark hair and the fold of fabric.

«So much for those Russian winter genes, huh?»

His voice is muffled by the scarf, but the teasing edge is clear, followed by the curious tilt of his head. Light catches on the lens of his glasses and for a quarter of a second Yuuri’s eyes truly sparkle. The teasing retort on his tongue promptly crumbles to ash and dies, leaving behind something sweeter.

«You don’t have a scarf in one of those bags, do you?» He asks, but Yuuri’s bags are all Christmas presents for the ones back home. Embroidered oven mittens for his mother, handmade toy wooden horses for the triplets, thick, knitted socks and homemade honey for Yuuko and Nishigori. Yuuri’s got plenty to carry and his fingers have gone red around the handles of his bags.

He pulls his hands out of his pockets and touches his fingers to Yuuri’s wrist. The skin is chilly beneath his fingertips.

«Gloves, Yuuri? Didn’t Yura get you some for your birthday?» He asks. Yuuri lets him take the bags in his right hand and is quick to intertwine his own, cold fingers with Victor’s warm ones. Victor can already feel the heat drain away, but it’s just fair after all the times he’s shoved his freezing feet against Yuuri’s in bed.

«They’re in my suitcase somewhere. I always forget to bring them when we’re not at the rink,» he admits.

«It’s good you have me to warm you, then,» he says and brushes the pad of his thumb over the back of Yuuri’s hand. A tint of red creeps up from beneath his scarf and colors the bridge of his nose a rosy pink. The soft wrinkles around Yuuri’s eyes remains.

«That was kinda corny.»

«Just corny?»

«Maybe a little romantic,» Yuuri says and bumps him with his shoulder. «But just a little.»

«Good thing you like a little corny romance, then.»

«Yeah, good thing,» he says. The hold around Victor’s hand tightens in a brief squeeze.

They wander past another couple of booths selling roasted chestnuts, an assortment of cheeses and a display of watercolor art in warm shades of red, brown and orange. Victor snaps a picture of a tiger sleeping on the embers of a fireplace to send to Yuri, but sadly the real thing is too big to bring with them.

«Oh.»

The gasp is almost too quiet to hear. Yuuri pulls gently on their linked hands to lead him in the right direction towards a fairly crowded booth. On display are a dozen or so pieces of silver jewellery swimming in lush fabric, each and every one decorated with small glass pearls in all the colors of the rainbow. Crafted by hand, the vendor tells them.

Yuuri gravitates towards the combs, gingerly lifting one from its box and turning it in the light. The emerald green and blue glass pearls are woven into the shaft like waves curling in on themselves and glint under the light like smooth diamonds. It’s a beautifully crafted piece.

«This one, please,» Yuuri tells the vendor, who gently plucks it from his grip and places it back in its box to be wrapped. «Mari will love this.»

His hand slips away from Victor’s to dig through his inner pockets for the cash he withdrew from an ATM near the hotel earlier. He hadn’t noticed before, but his fingers have gone a little numb from the cold and are stiff and slow as he wiggles them.

The soft clink of coins being dropped back into Yuuri’s open palm and another bag to join the others. They wander towards the next booth, but whatever warmth they’ve managed to cling tohas long since disappeared and their hands are both freezing cold.

«There’s a cart selling _glögi_ over there,» Victor says, pointing their joined hands towards a pushcart with fairy lights hanging from the frame. Other shoppers have gathered around small cafe tables, chatting with their hands wrapped around steaming cups and with bags stacked on the ground by their feet.

«I think it’s three euros for a cup? Give me a sec, I might have some change left,» Yuuri says and fumbles with the buttons of his coat. He fishes out a scatter of coins and thumbs through them.

«I only have two fifty. I thought I had another five euros,» he says, a small frown scrunching his eyebrows together. «Do you think they take cards?»

They don’t, by the looks of it. Victor digs through his own pockets and comes up with a single one euro coin. They look at it, then at each other.

«One cup to share then?» Victor says. A smile grows on Yuuri’s face and he’s helpless to keep a matching one off of his own. They get in line, huddled close for warmth and with his arm around Yuuri’s shoulders. The vendor accepts their money with thanks and fills their cup with steaming, sweet smelling wine.

Yuuri wraps his hands fully around the cup and breathes in some of the steam with a small sigh, leaning further into Victor’s side. Victor’s hand comes up to join Yuuri’s around the cup, relishing in the warmth. They take turns sipping the wine while their frozen fingers slowly come back to life.

* * *

_December 24th_

"Layovers suck," Yuuri murmurs and leans his head on Victor's shoulder. Their two takeaway cups are both lukewarm, a father has been trying to shush his screaming toddler for fifteen minutes and he’s been stuck on the same level of angry birds for so long that if Victor hadn’t gently plucked his phone away already, Yuuri would’ve thrown it on the ground and stepped on it.

He glances at up at the board. Their flight isn’t set to leave for another two hours.

"You can lay on my lap if you want?" Victor offers, looking outrageously put-together after their two hour long train ride from the mountains. His hair is messier and his shirt more wrinkled than before they left, but he somehow manages to make it a ‘look’. In stark contrast, Yuuri is wearing his softest sweatpants and a hoodie that’s oversized both in and out of season. He may have forgotten to brush his hair before they left.

"Mmm," he says and slips smoothly from Victor’s shoulder to his lap. The denim is soft against his cheek, Victor’s thigh a comfortable cushion to press his cheek into. A hand comes to rests with a grounding weight on his scalp. "Not gonna sleep, though. Just rest."

Victor offers one of his earbuds, and as they both settle into silence again with soft indie music on their ears, Victor's fingers start carding through the tangles in Yuuri's hair with small, featherlight touches.

Yuuri prefers to hide away in the more quiet areas of an airport, an abandoned gate somewhere away from the hustle and bustle of stressed travellers and busy shops. Victor, on the other hand, prefers a view of the people trickling past, a place where everything is within reach and bustling with activity to keep him engaged. Their middle ground is a cafe tucked away in a corner near the international flights where the constant stream of people is more of a trickle, but still humming with different languages and levels of haste.

For a while he counts his own breaths and just observes; stressed family members ushering each other forwards; calmer businessmen and women with their hand baggage sized suitcases; obvious tourists with maps and brochures shoved into their pockets; couples holding hands and taking selfies with their iced coffees.

But he’s not a natural people watcher like Victor, and the soft voice crooning in his ear combined with the hand in his hair makes it all too easy to drift off.

* * *

_December 25th_

[Video description: Victor opens their apartment door and is immediately assaulted by sixty tons of tail-wagging, tongue-lolling poodle. He laughs and sinks down on the floor, hands buried in Makkachin’s fur as she leaps onto him and plants her front paws on his shoulders. What follows is ten seconds of indistinct cooing, squealing and blabbering. In the background you can see Yuuri with his legs folded up on the couch, chin resting in his hand and with a dopey smile as he observes the scene.]

Liked by **v-nikiforov, mila_babicheva,** **y-katsuki, seung-gillee,** and **8,012 others**

**yuri-plisetsky** He sat like this for almost twenty minutes

#dogsittingfinallyover #olympicidiots #theystillowemenewshoes

_View all 113 comments_

**v-nikiforov** Finally reunited!! ♡♡

**need_money_for_pizza** someone pls look at me the way yuuri katsuki-nikiforov looks at his husband and dog

**y-katsuki** Thank you so much for dog sitting for us, Yura :)

**yuri+angels** in this house we stan two olympic idiots, their dog and their angry son

_4 HOURS AGO_

The smell of baked pirozki hangs heavy in the whole apartment. Yuri is out to buy a new carton of milk, leaving the two them alone with the cleanup of messy bowls and pans. Victor is elbow-deep in dishwater and soap, while Yuuri puts away spices and flour and potatoes.

He wraps his arms around Victor’s waist and rest his chin on Victor’s shoulder, swaying a bit to the tune Victor’s been humming under his breath.

«Happy birthday,» he murmurs into Victor’s ear and nuzzles into his neck. Victor leans his head back to meet his and smiles, a soft thing to match the soft look in his eyes.

They stay like that for a while, close and content in each other’s arms.

**Author's Note:**

> At first I had them go to France, but apparently there's not much snow there so then I sent them to Russia but rubles confused me too much and I had no idea how much a cup of mulled wine would cost so I panicked and sent them to Finland.
> 
> I hope you liked your gift pinkyvasquez!! It was tons of fun to make :)) 
> 
> [mandolinearts](https://mandolinearts.tumblr.com)  
> [my tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/vilchen)


End file.
